


Puppy Problems

by Achromos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hellhounds, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nonverbal Communication, Phoenixes, Post-Recall, Team as Family, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achromos/pseuds/Achromos
Summary: Returning to a recalled Overwatch together with his husband should have been easier than this. But then again, one of them is a possibly undead, really dangerous and traumatized hellhound. Oh well, people better learn to deal with it because Gabriel will stick with Jack until the very end.





	1. Paw beans

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this work was published on tumblr, but I was reminded that just in case that all goes to hell I should maybe archive it here. For those who already read this, thank you once more for your support and love. And for everyone else, enjoy!

Gabriel woke with a gasp, fire burning at his fingertips. For a moment he was disoriented, the image of hellfire raining down upon the Swiss HQ still etched into his vision. It was only when something wet left a trail of blazing sensation across his palm that he remembered where he was.

“Shh, puppy,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He was met with darkness and silence, his fire having retreated now that he knew he was safe. Only the shifting, nearly crushing weight draped across his legs told him his companion was still there. He reached out and tangled his fingers into the patchy, rough fur, feeling more than hearing the resulting huff of contentment.

“Are you thirsty? I’m going to get us both some water.”

Another lick, then the weight slipped off Gabriel, and off the bed. Apparently, he was coming with. In the narrow strip of moonlight that fell onto both of them when Gabriel opened the door, he saw that intelligent, blue eyes were watching him closely. Worried. Anxious. He patted him on the head once, trying to dispel some of the thoughts that were undoubtedly haunting that thick skull. It didn’t work, obviously, and he resigned himself to having a solid mass butting against his hip at every step. He knew it was to reassure himself of Gabriel’s presence, but it did make walking slightly more difficult than necessary.

Their trek to the communal kitchen was blessedly short, though, and he poured himself a glass of water to chase away the last remnants of his nightmare. His companion waited patiently for his turn, and then proceeded to noisily slobber all over the kitchen floor. He never had gotten the hang of drinking like a canid creature. His deformed jaw and teeth were no help in that department. So Gabriel waited patiently for him to finish, and then mopped up the mess. Maybe he was imagining it, but the eerily human eyes were looking slightly apologetic.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep,” Gabriel said, wringing out the wet towel he’d used. “If you’re up for it, we could try that combo we came up with last time.”

There was no reply from his companion, but when he took the turn that would lead him to the weapons range, there was the telltale click of claws on linoleum that told him he was being followed.

Overwatch had always been a collection of misfits and oddities, even before its fall. Over half its roster of active duty agents and brass had consisted of magical creatures or magically gifted humans, ranging from witches, halfbreeds, shifters and others to even rarer creatures. Gabriel, as a phoenix, had been one of a kind, and he still was. Aside from his mother, he had never met someone like him. But Overwatch had been a different kind of family, bringing humans, creatures and magic folk together from all over the world.

That had not changed, now that Overwatch had been reborn, called back to life by Winston’s civil courage. But there had been some additions to the roster, among them Gabriel’s silent shadow.

Most people would call it a monster. The gnarled limbs, patchy fur and threatening stance. The perpetual snarl, sharp canines peeking through, the dripping drool. The shape was so clearly _other_ , somehow between a creature resembling a canine of sorts and distinctively human that was entirely different from the way wolf and person melded into one in a werewolf. It made you stare and want to look away at the same time. The clear, human eyes were the worst. Peering out intelligently above the threatening maw. Evidence of intent and purpose behind the violence it could bring. And the silence. A ‘wolf would bark and yip and yowl and growl. But there was a quietness enshrouded in this one that put off most people.

But its clear white fur and the blue of its eyes, along with some of its mannerisms had halted Gabriel’s initial urge to kill it when he encountered it for the first time on Cairo’s streets. He immediately recognized the creature as the hellhound it was – a soul tortured and reshaped by the relentless hunger of hellfire. Usually, it was best to simply release them from their misery. But this one. With this one he had come to a terrible, terrible realization.

“Jack?” he had whispered into the darkness between them.

The hellhound had remained silent, merely bowing its neck and collapsing into an exhausted curl. It let him pet its rough fur, and when he’d brought it to his safehouse to clean both of their wounds, it showed its gratitude with rough licks.

There had never been any confirmation. But Gabriel knew that this was the tortured soul of his husband. And it didn’t matter if he looked different. If he would never speak or laugh again. They had always taken care of each other. They always would.

“So how do we do this? I don’t know if the training bots will keep up with us, but we have to try it out on something,” Gabriel said while he put in his code to access his weapons locker. His trusted hellfire shotguns sat there ready and waiting for him. They didn’t mind his second of hesitation before he picked them up, and Jack was too busy sniffing at the bots to notice. Sometimes it felt like he was talking to himself more than anything. “Okay, let’s go through the first one. Whenever you’re ready.”

The bots, which had started beeping in concern at the attention of the hellhound in question, started moving in their pre-programmed pattern. At first, Jack stood motionlessly in the middle of them, watching them trundle along their paths. Gabriel was almost ready to call it off, knowing that sometimes Jack just wasn’t in the mood, when the massive body suddenly vaulted across the room, smashing into one of the bots. It let out an alarmed noise at being shot-put directly into Gabriel’s line of sight, but he didn’t hesitate to fire a single, precise round. With a pitiful warble, the bot crumpled into a heap of scrap.

“Were you playing billiard when I wasn’t looking?” Gabriel joked. “Your angles are much better.”

Jack didn’t reply. The only reaction he got was a lolling tongue, and the noise of claws skittering across the floor. A few moments later, the next bot sailed through the air, thrown off course by powerful limbs. Gabriel needed two shots to disintegrate this one.

“Too fast,” he commented. And perhaps Jack’s sneeze-snort was a response to that, but he couldn’t be sure of that. “Let’s try this with me on the high ground.”

The first light of dawn started creeping over the edge of the horizon by the time Jack decided he was done playing with the bots and simply flopped over. He remained motionless, only giving a single half-hearted wag of his tail when Gabriel petted his fur.

“Tired?” he sighed. “Yeah. Me too. We were pretty successful though. Maybe next time they’ll let us go on a mission with them and we can try it out in the field.”

He continued to pet him for a while, hoping that it gave Jack some semblance of comfort when Gabriel rubbed his ears and scratched at his chin. The latter earned him a few licks, though perhaps it was just Jack trying to stem the flow of his drool. It was hard to decipher his gestures sometimes. How much of it was Gabriel desperately reading into something that wasn’t there?

When Jack’s ears suddenly perked up, swiveling to find the source of whatever had managed to grab his attention, Gabriel stayed calm. There was no real danger on base, but sometimes unexpected things made Jack twitchy.

“You should try rubbing the paw beans,” came a voice from behind Gabriel.

Jack sat up abruptly, baring his teeth in a silent snarl, ears flattened against his skull. With a heavy sigh, Gabriel rose from his kneeling position to face Jesse McCree.

“How you manage to sneak with those horrible spurs of yours I will never understand,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“It’s a talent,” the werewolf smirked, tipping his hat in their direction.

“You shifted, didn’t you.”

“Yeah, okay, I shifted.”

The both of them turned to look at Jack, who had pointedly turned his back on them, and was currently chewing on a piece of destroyed training bot. Gabriel was initially worried about Jack’s teeth, but then he remembered that he was a _hellhound_.

“So what brings you to the training range?” he asked Jesse, flinching when Jack’s jaws snapped shut, crunching bits of metal, plastic and rubber into dust.

“Was looking for you, boss. Winston sent me – apparently there’s a Talon-related mission he wants your opinion on.”

“He doesn’t want us to handle it?”

Jesse hesitated for a bit, and then said: “Naw, he just wants confirmation on some intel.”

Neither of them acknowledged the way Jack’s ears had swiveled back to point at them, indicating the fact that he heard and understood what they were saying. He’d moved on to chew on something else that Gabriel couldn’t identify, but still kept one ear trained at him and Jesse.

“Talon, huh.” He started disassembling and cleaning his shotguns, trying to dispel the strange tension in the air by ignoring it. “Well, there’s a lot I can tell, but I don’t know how fresh the information will be. Jack and I have been out for a while now. We’re always happy to help though.”

“’kay. If you’re done here, just go upstairs to the command center. I trust you’ll find your way.”

“You are not here to make sure we keep our word?” Gabriel grinned mirthlessly and reassembled his guns with practiced ease. As he stowed them away, he felt something bump against his leg. “Come on, Jesse, we both know Winston has benched us. He doesn’t trust us. There is no need to sugarcoat it. We may be able to move freely – within the Watchpoint’s perimeter, mind you – but we haven’t been given clearance to all levels. There is always someone keeping an eye on us, and he hasn’t let us go on a single mission yet.”

Jesse didn’t look troubled at being caught out, only rocking back and forth on his heels as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His eyes darted to the warm presence at Gabriel’s side, but he could only guess what he saw there. What everyone saw there.

“You know we’re happy you’re home,” he said then. “It wasn’t right, thinking you’d betrayed us for Talon. But we still gotta be careful. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” Gabriel muttered. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that Jesse hadn’t addressed the topic of Jack. It wasn’t an issue he was prepared to press, afraid of hearing what people – what his friends and family really thought.

Jesse silently parted ways from them on the way to the command center – the direction he took could either lead to the communal rooms or the outdoors. Gabriel didn’t ask. But he took the comfort Jack offered with a warm huff of breath against his palm, and buried his fingers in his wiry neck fur.

“You wanted to speak with us?” he said upon entering the command center.

Winston turned away from a wall of projections and monitors, pushing up his glasses with one finger as he spotted them. If his eyes lingered a second longer on Jack, Gabriel let it slide. They were here to make peace.

“Good morning, agent. Uh, agents. I wanted to consult your expertise on this matter. We have received an anonymous tip: the location of backup servers that Talon is allegedly using to store their data. Perhaps you can confirm that this intel is correct?”

Gabriel frowned, but extracted his hand from Jack’s fur to examine a holographic map more closely.

“Argentina?” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure, it depends on what kind of data storage we’re talking about. The financial records were all kept in Monaco, under Maximilian’s purview. Scientific data and blueprints were kept at the Oasis servers. What else could there be?”

“Personnel records,” Winston said. “The anonymous note said this would reveal any and all names of people who are or were on Talon’s payroll.”

Gabriel whistled, impressed.

“That’s a gold mine.”

“It would be,” Winston agreed, “if we could be certain that the anonymous tipper is trustworthy.”

“Can I see the note?”

“Athena?”

Staying uncharacteristically silent, the AI opened a holographic projection in front of Gabriel, showing the short message.

_Hello friends, the servers at this location contain information on anyone who has ever worked for Talon. I’m sure you can do something useful with this. XOXO_

Gabriel snorted.

“Yeah, it’s trustworthy.”

“May I inquire as to why you would come to this conclusion?” Athena finally chimed in.

“The _XOXO_.”

“A shorthand for kisses and hugs,” she said, contemplatively. “Is this really enough to deem this note trustworthy? It could be a trap. A ruse.”

“No. I recognize the style, the language of it. This is Sombra. She is the one who helped extract me and Jack from Talon. She has her own agenda, and she certainly stands to gain from this as well, but she has no reason to betray us.”

“Hmm,” Winston grumbled, sitting back on his haunches and frowning sternly. “I don’t know. We are stretched thin as we are. I’m not sure I can afford to send a strike team on a wild goose chase. But if you say this is real, we might be looking at the motherlode of information. We’d have Talon in the palm of our hands.”

A sudden mass collided with Gabriel from behind, and he was nearly thrown off balance. Just as he was about to spring into action, decades of combat experience coming to the forefront, he felt a familiar huff of hot, humid breath against his neck.

“ _Jack_ ,” he chided, still bent over from the force of the push. “Now’s not the time.”

But Jack was busy doing a weird hopping dance the way a kid might if it had to go to the bathroom, seconds before it was too late. His eyes were strangely imploring, and the snap of his jaw right next to Gabriel’s ear was insistent.

“What if,” Gabriel said calmly, “Jack and I went to check out these coordinates?”

“What?” Winston, who had backed away from the hellhound going nuts in front of him, visibly swallowed. “I haven’t cleared you for active duty yet.”

“That’s the beauty of the plan. You don’t have to expend any of your resources, we’d get some fresh air, get rid of our cabin fever, and you don’t have to worry about Jack scratching up your walls anymore. Plus, we might return with some actually valuable information.”

“It is sound logic,” Athena surprisingly agreed with him.

“Hm. Alright. But I can only give you a minimum of support. An ORCA, and your own gear, nothing more. You’ll have to figure out the rest.”

“Fine by me. By us,” Gabriel assured him.

A few hours later, an older ORCA model was deployed from Watchpoint: Gibraltar, with only two passengers. Gabriel, strapped into the pilot seat even though the plane was on autopilot, tried to ignore Jack’s smug grin reflecting off the windshield.

“Bastard,” Gabriel muttered, with no heat behind his words. “You’re far too used to getting what you want.”

Well, Jack didn’t disagree with him. He did, however, benevolently allow Gabriel to grab one of his paws and massage his toe beans. Just to pass the time, of course.


	2. Carsickness

Gabriel was just done radioing Winston at Watchpoint: Gibraltar, telling him that the mission had been a success and he and Jack managed to extract the information from the Argentinian servers without too much of a fuss – which was totally a lie – when he heard a crashing sound from somewhere behind him. With a sigh he secured the drive containing their loot and checked their autopilot again. That done, he felt safe enough to deal with whatever problem had surely arisen in the two minutes he was gone.

“Jack?” he called out. “You okay back there?”

There was no reply of course, but a second, smaller crashing sound echoed through the ORCA instead. Resigned, Gabriel exited the cockpit and descended the few steps to the common area, where agents would usually sit and while away the time during an intercontinental flight like this. Instead of agents, there was only one sheepish looking hellhound. He had both front paws on the rec table, trying to sit like a person, but the wide-eyed look told Gabriel everything.

“What did you do,” he sighed, not expecting an answer.

Jack ducked is head and nosed at his paws in the canid equivalent of inspecting his nails and whistling innocently.

“Did you rip off the toilet seat again? I told you to go pee before liftoff, the toilets in here aren’t meant for non-humanoid creatures. It’s an old ORCA, without the barrier-free access to bathroom equipment.”

Jack pointedly shifted, turning his back on Gabriel.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Whatever you did, I’m going to find out, but instead of making me search for whatever it is, you could just show me. It can’t be _that_ bad.”

Suddenly, Jack was off like a cracker, speeding across the entire length of the ORCA, and nearly crashing into a wall on the way to the cockpit. He failed to open the door with his paws and threw a desperate look back at Gabriel.

“What was that supposed to achieve, huh?”

With a loud huff, Jack came slinking back, tail tucked between his legs. It was such a sad sight that, though he knew it was just Jack being overly dramatic, he had to give him a few comforting ear rubs.

“You know I’m not mad, whatever happened, yeah? Just show me, I’ll deal with it, and it’s all good. I know it’s hard to adjust to only having paws, and not being able to speak. So I’m never going to get mad, okay?”

Jack eventually led him to the bathroom, as Gabriel had expected. He stood hunched next to the door, refusing to meet Gabriel’s eyes or otherwise engage, and it struck him as odd.

“Okay, let’s see what we got here.”

He pushed inside the cramped little room, expecting to see water splashed everywhere, or perhaps pee on the floor, or a broken wash basin. He did not expect to encounter the puddle of blood, or the acid stench of vomit, both of which were also smeared on the walls.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, backing out again. “Jack?”

The skitter of claws on the floor was the only warning he got before Jack barreled past him, disappearing under the narrow gap beneath one of the seats.

“Jack,” he called out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were still- … I mean, I thought- …”

He cut himself off with a curse. Looking back on their mission, he wondered whether he should have seen the signs – if there had been any. It was remarkable how long Jack must have held out and hid this from him. But as he returned to survey the chaos, the bathroom looking like a crime scene, Gabriel despaired. He had hoped they were over this. The ORCA didn’t have equipment to deal with this properly, and he couldn’t afford to let Winston and the others know.

The mess wasn’t important now. Though it nauseated Gabriel, the sight of blood, with chunks of flesh and bone, and the putrid smell of bile, he had to take care of Jack.

“It’s okay, puppy,” he whispered, kneeling down next to the seat Jack had decided to seek refuge under. “I’m not angry. There’s no one here to punish you for being carsick. We’re free, remember? We’re not with Talon anymore. We’re on our way home, and I’m going to take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

Continuing his litany of reassurances, he closed his eyes and reached under the seat. He barely registered the first bite, or the second. The third one caught him on his forearm, though, and he had to resist the urge to pull free, knowing it would only make things worse. At least those razor sharp teeth had not broken through his skin yet, though he knew they could do so very easily.

“You’re safe now, I’m here. There isn’t going to be a cage, and I’m going to feed you proper food, and there is a bed waiting for us, and a bath if you want. We’re free. We’re not going back there, I promise. No one will hurt you for this. I’m sure Angela will patch you up in no time.”

When Jack finally allowed him to pet his fur, he was devastated, feeling the trembles wrack through the body beneath his fingers. He wondered whether, if he were able, Jack would be whimpering and crying. More than ever, he wished they could talk. He wished Jack could tell him what was wrong. Whether he was in pain, of if it was just the horror of being reminded of the things they had to do while they were in Talon.

*

Sometimes he could barely remember who he was. Who he used to be. It got drowned in a haze of red, a curtain falling and swallowing the world, drowning it in blood and pain. A voice would call him by his name – _Jack, Jack, Jack_ – and he would try, he would try so hard to reply, but he was never allowed to make a sound. Sound was bad. He’d learned that early on.

Most of the time now he could tell what was real, and what was the curse painting colors and shapes over his vision to drive him into a rage. When he found Gabriel, he found a kind of peace that let him hold on to himself for longer. To resist the current of revenge, hunger, fury and agony. Certain things were dangerous, though. And today he nearly crossed a line he knew should not be crossed, unless he wanted to lose himself forever.

He was ashamed at the loss of control he had shown today. Gabriel had not seen it, distracted with his own fire, his own foes and victims. And it was wonderful to behold him in his true glory. But the taste of blood, of human flesh … it had nearly been enough.

Hiding under the seat in the ORCA, he squinted his eyes shut. He knew he didn’t deserve Gabriel’s affections. Perhaps he never had, but he was certain that he did not anymore, not now.

Gabriel may have done things. May have followed orders and been coerced. Partially, this was Jack’s fault too. If not for him, for the cage they kept him in at Talon, Gabriel may have escaped sooner. But never, ever, had he found enjoyment in his handiwork. Pride, perhaps. For his skill, and the service it did humankind, to rid the world of evil.

Jack, on the other hand, had learned to love the sound bone made when it got crushed to dust between his powerful teeth. The heat of fresh blood flooding his mouth. The give of flesh beneath his claws. It was wrong. It was the curse. It wasn’t him.

No matter how many times he told that to himself, he still knew. Inside, he was ruined. Something inside him had bent and broken, shaped into something that did not deserve the care and love Gabriel showed him.

And yet. His hand still caressed his fur, no matter how unpleasant it was to the touch. He still smiled at him, no matter how misshapen and torn his face. He still kissed his brow, no matter how little he deserved it.

Sometimes he forgot himself, and things happened. Things that Gabriel had to take care of. He tried to rid himself of the evidence of his failure, only to make matters worse. But as he crawled out from under the seat, pressing his nose into Gabriel’s palm in apology, he resolved to hold on to his name. To fight tooth and nail not to forget anymore.

For Gabriel. For him, he would do anything.


	3. Hygiene

Gabriel was always astonished at the bright white color of Jack’s fur after a bath. A lot of dirt and dust and … other things accumulated very quickly, making him look more dirty brown or piebald even. Until he washed it all off with some shampoo and water. And out came – still a crooked, uneven, perpetually snarling creature, but the color of a wild ice bear instead of a captive one.

“How do you always get this dirty?” Gabriel groused not unkindly, rubbing his hands roughly along Jack’s back to rid him of clumps of dirt, dust and blood. The body under his palms surged in an annoyed huff. “Rolling in the dirt like swine, are we? And to think I let you sleep in bed with me, you dirty puppy, you.”

That earned him a playful nip to the shoulder, where Jack knew he could handle the pressure from those sharp, deadly teeth.

“At least you don’t have any lice.” He paused. “Or do you?”

The reason for this particular bath was their return from the mission in Argentina, for one. He was unsure how the other Overwatch agents, both old and new, magical and non-magical, would react to seeing Jack’s blood red muzzle and legs drenched in unidentifiable fluids that made him look like he was wearing thigh-highs. But they were also overdue for a medical checkup at Angela’s. And there was no way Gabriel was going to let him show up at the witch’s place with anything less than pristine appearance. So he had to give him a bath, clip his nails, brush his teeth, and comb out his fur.

Gabriel didn’t have much experience taking care of canid creatures. He had worked with a lot of werewolves, werefoxes and werecoyotes and such in his time, but they all knew how to care for themselves. Jesse in particular often shocked people unfamiliar with ‘weres by pointedly licking his own butt in full frontal view. Which was gross, and Gabriel was kind of glad Jack didn’t do that. But it also meant that Jack had no clue how to maintain his body hygiene.

Jack was clumsily trying to help him reach some less accessible parts of his body, but the movement only caused the water to spill over and drench Gabriel from head to toe.

“You know that doesn’t work on me,” he said in response to Jack’s pathetic version of puppy eyes. “Admit it, you just wanted me to take off my shirt.”

He carefully rinsed off the shampoo he used, washing it away from Jack’s face so it didn’t drip into his eyes and cause irritation. That had happened far too many times, back when all of this had been new. As he did so, Gabriel noted with dismay that clumps of hair came off alongside the suds, which were soon starting to clog the drain. Jack’s fur grew in quickly, but he also lost an inordinate amount of it every day. It made wearing his black uniform very impractical, since Jack and he were more or less joined at the hip these days.

There were eight full-sized bath towels at the ready to make a futile attempt at drying Jack’s massive body, and they were all sopping wet in no time at all. Gabriel let them lie on the bathroom floor, exhausted, and thinking to himself that was a problem for his future self.

“Do you wanna go outside and shake off the rest of it?”

Jack let his jaw and tongue hang in what Gabriel had come to recognize both as an affirmation and a big, happy grin. He didn’t bother to change his own drenched clothing, knowing he was only going to get wet again. The only things he needed to bring were the equipment to deal with Jack’s teeth and nails.

Gabriel steadfastly ignored the steady trail of water they both left behind, knowing there were automated bots to take care of these things. On the way to the sun deck, however, they encountered a relatively new face.

“A disgrace,” said Hanzo Shimada, not bothering to greet them politely. “This monstrosity should have been put down and out of its misery a long time ago. It is unsightly of an organization such as Overwatch, and I would be ashamed, were I a member of it.”

Gabriel let Jack’s silent snarl speak for them both and shouldered past the archer.

“I don’t care that you’re Genji’s brother,” he threw over his shoulder. “Disrespect the former Strike Commander again, and you’ll have a real problem with me.”

There was only an arrogant huff in reply to this, and Gabriel had to hide the furious tremble of his hands in Jack’s neck fur. He kept his fingers entangled in the wet strands until they reached fresh air and sunlight.

“Don’t use any of the furniture,” Gabriel reminded Jack sternly, but smiled when he saw him bound across the deck in joy. The arrhythmic click of his claws on the floor was as much caused by his leaps and bounds as by his asymmetric hip, causing a very slight limp.

As he watched Jack shake out his fur, reclined on one of the deck chairs, he grimly remembered a time he didn’t know how to do that. Back in Talon, things like this had been a great weakness that made Jack’s life among the other beasts and creatures difficult. Gabriel had tried to spend as much time with him as he could, but sometimes missions didn’t require him to bring additional help. And that left Jack to handle the resident ‘were pack, a pair of gryphons and a sphynx all on his own.

A cold, wet nose bumping against his cheek drew him out of his reverie, alongside a heavy paw placed innocently in his lap.

“No paw rubs,” he admonished Jack. “Just hold still while I try to deal with your nails, okay?”

There was a huff of breath and a big, warm head nudging his shoulder, which he took as assent.

Clipping Jack’s nails was like trying to saw off a piece of rock. Usually, walking on hard and rough surfaces all day could help to mitigate some of the problems, but Jack’s claws were harder than any floor by far. So he had to trim them more often.

By the time he was done with one paw, his hand already hurt from exertion. As if sensing this, Jack withdrew his leg and started nuzzling at Gabriel’s hand.

“That really won’t help, I’m sorry. We will just have to power through.”

By the time he was finally done, he was hungry as well as thirsty, and Jack’s fur had gone all puffy and fluffy in the sunlight. He ran his hand through it, as always surprised at how rough it was.

“You look like a teddy bear now. A big, chunky teddy bear.”

Jack snorted and licked his face.

“Ugh, okay. How about we grab some food? I can brush your teeth afterwards, if you promise not to have stinky breath.” He met Jack’s unimpressed gaze. “Okay, you always have stinky breath nowadays. But still. Have you tried mouthwash?”

As they made their way to the kitchen, Gabriel marveled that sometimes there were moments like this where it didn’t feel like their banter was one-sided. He good-naturedly ribbed Jack’s eyesight, telling him to eat his vegetables, and in return Jack tugged at his sweatpants until he nearly stumbled.

“Stop it, you hooligan, those are my favorite pants!”

Jack’s only reply was a big, open-mouthed grin, and then he was off. Not bothering to hurry, Gabriel let him simmer for a bit, so that by the time he arrived at the kitchen, Jack was pacing impatiently in front of the fridge, tail wagging hesitantly.

“Should have thought about that before you ran off, puppy.”

It had taken them a while to find out what Jack could or could not eat. Gabriel surmised that Jack had lived off of garbage, rats and leftovers before he found him in Cairo. In Talon, Jack had been fed the usual fare of protein, carbs and vitamins mashed together into one block of tasteless goop – enough to keep him alive and strong, useful to Talon, but not much else. In secret, Gabriel used to bring him pieces of meat, fruits, vegetables, and other foodstuffs, trying to find something Jack liked. No matter what he brought, it all seemed to still agree with him, so eventually they decided on giving him regular human food, though adjusted to his lack of opposable thumbs.

Gabriel threw together a few ingredients they had lying around into a delicious burrito for himself, mixing them all in a bowl for Jack to enjoy. They ate in silence, which was only interrupted by Jack intermittently when he eventually got something stuck between his teeth and tried to get it unstuck by hacking, slurping, and generally making a lot of noise.

“You okay there buddy?” Gabriel asked, mouth full, after it had been quiet for some time. He turned around, only to nearly choke on his food.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

He quickly swallowed, brushed a few crumbs off his shirt and pulled his feet off the counter, where he had been resting them previously. There was the strange urge to stand and salute, but he suppressed it.

“Ana,” he replied finally, recovering from his shock. “How are- … What are you- …”

“I was just about to make myself some tea. Would you like some as well?”

He mutely shook his head, and watched her slim, proud figure cross the kitchen as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jack, hunkering and stiff like a board, backed up against the wall on the far end of the room.

“So how did the mission in Argentina go?”

Gabriel turned around again, observing as Ana filled a pot with water and prepared a cup and her tea leaves. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut in half with a careless word.

“It was a success,” he replied cautiously.

Her back still turned on him, Ana hummed.

“It is good to have you back.”

“In general, or specifically from this mission?”

“Both.”

Swallowing awkwardly, Gabriel shifted to look back and check on Jack. His spine straightened with terror, when he found the corner empty. Had Jack slipped out of the room? Damn, since he’d trimmed his nails there wasn’t the telltale sound of them on the floor anymore.

“I don’t trust him. And he doesn’t trust me either.”

Frowning, Gabriel waited for Ana to elaborate. She calmly prepared her tea, bringing her cup and some sugar to Gabriel’s table, and sat down primly next to him.

“He is a hellhound, Gabriel,” she finally continued, after taking a first sip. “Even if he used to be Jack Morrison, he is no longer the man we both knew. Hellhounds are violent, volatile creatures. It is no mistake they are categorized as beasts. They aren’t human anymore, after the transformation. It is a miracle he seems to still remember you and hold some sort of loyalty to you. But I don’t trust him when it comes to the safety of anyone else. You may be able to survive a hellhound attack, because your fire is stronger than his, even in your … weakened state. The rest of us don’t have your gifts though. And I don’t like the fact that you are playing with a lot of lives just by having him here on base with us.”

“No wonder Jack doesn’t trust you either,” Gabriel said wryly.

“He should be cautious. I will not hesitate to defend myself, should the need arise.”

Gabriel nodded, accepting Ana’s viewpoint. He knew very well that once the sniper and alchemist had made up her mind there was no changing it.

“You do know,” he added, however, “that neither of us has forgiven you for leaving yet.”

There was a barely noticeable pause in between sips.

“I had my reasons.”

“I’m sure.” Gabriel got to his feet, feeling strangely detached. There was some anger here, mostly on behalf of Jack, and some old grief. But he needed to find Jack and make sure that he was okay. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “there’s somewhere I need to be right now.”

He was already halfway out the door, when he heard Ana say: “I may not really understand or approve. But … I am glad you have each other. In whatever capacity. The two of you were always better together than apart.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel replied sincerely, meeting her eye across the room. The air was still heavy, but this time it was thick with emotion, and not all of it negative. “It’s good to have you back, too.”

His legs felt numb as he hurried back to his room – the room he shared with Jack. It was the only plausible place where Jack could be hiding right now. When he entered, at first his heart seized in fear. There was no white in sight anywhere. No sign of Jack at all. Until his ears picked up on a very faint noise.

“Hey there, puppy. How in the world did you manage to fit under there?”

With a long sigh, he laid flat on the ground, on his back, so he was free to look under the narrow space under the bed. In the darkness, Jack’s eyes reflected what little light came through, two pinpricks of brightness. There was another sniffing sound.

“I know it must have been tough, seeing Ana like that. But you didn’t finish eating. How about we stay in here for a while? I can brush your teeth later. If you want some cuddles though, you’ll have to get out from there.”

He burst into laughter when a nearly two-hundred-pound hellhound pounced on him and started showering him in lick-kisses. As he wrestled with him on the ground, mock-protesting the loving, he felt something inside him settle. He loved Jack. He would always love him, in whichever way it was possible for him to do. And Jack loved him, too, he was sure of it, in whichever way he was able. No one understood, but it also didn’t matter. As long as they had each other the world was okay.


	4. The vet

Jack looked not just unimpressed, but downright insulted, when Angela asked him to “fetch this”. ‘This’ being some kind of sensor. It was for the purpose of Jack’s physical fitness test, and it was probably supposed to measure his reaction time and speed. But Jack didn’t move a muscle when Angela shot the sensor across the track, only giving her a long, hard look, before he turned around and sat his – frankly heavy – butt down on Gabriel’s foot.

“I don’t think he likes being treated like a dog,” Gabriel dared to say. Angela’s gaze was nearly as unimpressed as Jack’s had been.

“All the other tests won’t work on him. Unless you’re telling me that he can suddenly operate a computer?”

“Surely there is another way.”

Angela sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“No,” she bit out. “If you want to be an active agent again, then- … Then _Jack_ will also have to be vetted. We will have to devise a way for him to be useful in the field. Torbjörn came up with a concept, but for that we need measurements, as well as at least a vague idea of what he is capable of. Speed, strength, agility, and _obedience_. Which he is clearly failing at already.”

Jack wasn’t the only one bristling at her choice of words.

“Like I said,” Gabriel repeated, trying to stay calm, “he’s not a dog who will fetch and sit at your command. Surely you have tested Jesse and Lena’s ‘wolf forms too. Just use the same tests.”

“I am! But this is obviously not working,” Angela shot back. She visibly tried to get a grip on her frustration and offered Gabriel a small smile. “I know you are serious about joining Overwatch. Rejoining, I suppose. But we can’t be sure about Jack’s commitment to the cause. If he even _is_ Jack. His very existence is a breach of- …”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and interrupted her: “Oh not this again. Did Ana whisper that in your ear? Come off it. If any of you just bothered to interact with him you’d be a sure as I am that this is, in fact, Jack Morrison. Hellhound or no. He is loyal to me, and we both are serious about this. Just treat him with respect, like you would any other patient, and he won’t threaten to bite you in return.”

“There should be no threat of physical harm at all. And if he can’t control himself, then I have no choice but to deem him unfit, after which I would be forced to take certain measures.”

“And what kind of measures are those exactly?” Gabriel pressed on. “Are you just going to put him down like a rabid dog?”

Angela unhappily pressed her lips together, until Gabriel could feel the slow pulse of her magic beating against his skin. It was only when the force suddenly dissipated that he noticed that his foot was no longer weighed down by Jack’s butt.

“Jack,” he called out automatically. But then he spotted him, trotting calmly towards them, the sensor clutched securely between his jaws. He set it down gingerly in front of Angela, leveling her with another look that she met calculatingly.

“Alright,” she sighed, as if there had been a whole exchange between them. She bent down and picked up the sensor, wiggling in front of Jack’s nose once. “If you would be so kind and bring this back as quickly as possible.”

While she prepared the device that would shoot the sensor across the entire length of the track, Gabriel watched as Jack carefully positioned himself on the starting line, paws braced against the ground for a sprint start.

“Ready,” Angela said. “Set. _Go_.”

Both the sensor and Jack were a mere blur, streaks of white and silver that shot along the racing track. Awed, Gabriel watched as Jack picked up the device a mere split second after it had touched the ground and utilized his powerful limbs to turn his momentum around completely. He thundered back over the starting line, leaving Gabriel staggering in the wake of the pressure wave his speed had caused.

Jack had careened straight into the wall behind them but seemed unharmed as he picked himself up and dropped the sensor into Angela’s hand.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said calmly and pocketed the thing. “Now for your agility test.”

They had an entire obstacle course set up for Jack, mimicking multiple types of terrain, which he placidly surveyed, and ran – no, flew – through the entirety of it at Angela’s behest. Again, she read off his results without even so much as a change in expressions.

“For his endurance test we will need to take some time. If you want to do something else in the meantime, I will have Athena fetch you once we’re done.”

Startled, Gabriel realized she was addressing him, and not Jack.

“Oh. Uh, how long do you expect this to take?”

“As long as it takes. We’ll finish the rest of his physical examination tomorrow, once he’s recovered. As I said, you can leave and drink coffee, or train, or whatever else you want. This will take a while.”

Unsure, Gabriel looked at Jack, who was disinterestedly sniffing at what looked like a modified treadmill.

“I can stay if you want,” he addressed him, and stepped closer. Jack huffed quietly when he buried his fingers in the thick fur on his neck ruff but bumped his head against Gabriel’s hip. “You want me to go? Are you sure?”

Jack pushed his snout into the palm of Gabriel’s free hand.

“Just grab my pants if you want me to stay, I have no idea what you’re saying.”

This time Jack let his entire weight collide with Gabriel’s legs, nearly toppling him like one of the training bots he liked to kick around. That was as much confirmation that Jack felt he was capable of handling the rest of the test on his own as Gabriel would ever get.

Still, he knelt down and grabbed Jack’s muzzle and dropped a kiss on it.

“Just do as Angela says, and I promise to rub your ears and toes for as long as you want tonight, okay?”

Jack blinked at him slowly, gently, and licked one single broad, wet stripe across Gabriel’s face.

“Alright. I’ll be in the cafeteria. Just in case. But Athena will tell me when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up. I promise.”

It was already on his way to the cafeteria that Gabriel felt a sense of unease creeping up on him that did not bode well. He knew what this was. He had been afraid of this, all day long, ever since they knew that Jack would have his physical exam today. He knew they would get separated, and Gabriel … just couldn’t bear it.

With trembling hands, he made himself coffee, realizing it was ill-advised, yet unable to stop himself. At least he wasn’t pouring himself a finger of Jesse’s moonshine.

He closed his eyes and fought off memories of the last times he and Jack were separated. Thinking about their time with Talon was difficult. Their time there had been hard on the both of them, for various reasons. They had been used as tools by the terrorist organization they had sworn to dismantle years ago, and as often as they sought each other out, to help each other, more often than not they were pulled apart.

It made Gabriel feel helpless, as he was unable to protect Jack. The missions they sent him on, collared and caged, enslaved by the people they hated the most – they were forced to do things neither of them wanted to revisit.

He knew it was different this time, he was aware of that. Angela would not hurt Jack unnecessarily. But the general hostility of the new Overwatch agents towards them both, but especially Jack, did not help ease Gabriel’s nerves.

The rim of his coffee mug clattered noisily against his teeth as he took a sip, giving away the constant tremble in his hands. Staring at the offending object grimly, he tried to will his hand to steady itself.

“Whoa, what did that mug ever do to you?”

He redirected his glare to pin Lena with it. She ignored it, zipping here and there, grabbing pastries and a bottle of Gatorade as she went. Finally, she came to a halt next to him, smiling brightly.

“May I sit, sir?”

“Why the hell not,” he grumbled, knowing that Lena “Tracer” Oxton was not to be stopped either way.

“Cheers!” She sat on the chair cross-legged, swaying gently from side to side as she slowly savored her cookies. “So where’s the Commander?”

“Hm?”

“Commander Morrison.”

Gabriel grimaced.

“He’s at Angela’s, getting his physical exam done.”

“Ah.” Lena chewed thoughtfully and washed it down with a sip of Gatorade. “I understand.”

“And what is it exactly you understand?” Gabriel growled, frowning. He realized he was still holding his mug in suspension, and hesitantly took the sip. It did not clatter against his teeth.

“Why you’re upset, of course. The separation from your pack mate must be unnerving. It usually feels like that when I haven’t seen Emily or Jesse in a while.”

Setting down his mug, Gabriel regarded Lena more closely. She either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, still swaying from side to side and munching on her cookies.

“I’m not a ‘wolf though, and neither is Jack.”

“Sure,” she replied easily. “Dunno, I just thought it might be like that. You and the Commander were always very close. It must be hard being separated again.”

“Yeah. It is.”

This wasn’t helping. He knew Lena meant well, but he was anxious enough that adding caffeine alone wasn’t a good idea. Add a hyperactive, overly-cheerful British girl into the mix, and Gabriel was feeling on edge.

“I think I’ll go back to our room. They said it might take a while,” he said, pushing his chair back and getting up laboriously. For some reason he felt a familiar strain in his limbs, as if he had been pushing himself too hard, draining his fire until it was weakened. “If you see Jack, tell him?”

“Will do, sir!”

Back in his room, Gabriel stopped right behind the door, at a loss as to what he should do now. He had some literal free alone time right now, but he had no idea how to spend it. For decades there had either never been any real down time, or he had to spend it with others, who usually decided for him what to do. Should he turn on the TV? He had no clue what was on these days, hadn’t caught up with any of the modern shows or movies. He could try to jerk off in peace without it being weird – but he wasn’t in the mood. Maybe he should have gone to the shooting range and bothered Jesse. But no, he was here now, and he was going to distract himself, even if it killed him.

He sat on the edge of his bed, determined. This was temporary. In a few hours Jack would be back and they could cuddle, or Gabriel could cook them some food, or they could get in some more combo practice. It was fine. He could do this. He wasn’t suffering from separation anxiety.

He wasn’t.

Three hours later he was just about ready to smash in the TV because of what felt like the millionth repeat of a commercial that grated on his nerves since the first time he saw it, when the door opened. Just like that, his rage vanished, and he suddenly felt ridiculous, looming over the TV, both hands raised and ready to strike.

“Jack!” he called out, squinting at the silhouette standing in the doorway. “Finally, I thought Angela was never going to let you go. Are you alright?”

The wave of relief that swept over him the moment Jack jumped into his arms was staggering. He laughed, feeling tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he buried his face in Jack’s neck. There was a cold snout digging into his temple and a hot tongue licking broad swipes across his cheek, and his nose was tickled by bristly fur, but despite the assault on his senses, he could not be happier.

“I am sure you must be exhausted,” he mumbled, digging his fingers into Jack’s fur, feeling the body in his arms tremble. “What do you say to staying in tonight?”

The perfect, happy curl of Jack’s body on top of his spelled ‘yes’ more clearly than any words could.

The next day, Gabriel kept his fingers tangled in Jack’s neck fur as they went to meet Angela in her office on the other side of the compound. She was quiet as she took some blood and took a cheek swab, but she seemed marginally less frustrated than the day before. He expected her to offer Jack candy any second.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Gabriel asked her afterwards.

“Everything seems to be in order.” She huffed. “As much as anything can be in order with a hellhound. His bone structure is messy, and his bloodwork makes no sense, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by his injuries – for lack of a better word – so I am clearing him for active duty. We will have to develop some tech for him first, though. I took measurements for a harness that Torbjörn will build. And together with Ana I am developing healing packs that he will be able to bring along on missions, as well as ammunition, so he can lend field support.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said hesitantly. “But Jack is still my partner. We have our own battle routine.”

“Oh, the support role shouldn’t interfere too much with that. The healing packs are only in case of emergency, and the harness will be constructed in a way that should not restrict his movement at all.”

“Alright, that sounds fair.”

“Good. Then I think we are done here. Torbjörn will tell you once he is done with the harness.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Quick and painless. Well, mostly.”

Jack snorted loudly at that, which made specks of snot and slobber fly all across the room. Gabriel bit his lip, not knowing whether to laugh or apologize profusely … or point out that there was a particularly large blob of slime now stuck to Angela’s otherwise pristine lab coat. She did not look impressed either way.

“We’ll just go now,” he grit out and turned on his heel.

The second he was out the door, he burst into laughter.

“Oh my god,” he cried, “that was the most hilarious thing I’ve seen in _years_.”

Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe not. But Jack seemed to look really, really smug for the rest of the night. Which made it even more hilarious. And perfect. Except that they were both probably relieved that there were no more medical examinations in their immediate future.


	5. Territoriality

Almost everyone except for the non-gifted humans got into a real tizzy around the time of the full moon. Werewolves were naturally inclined to shift more often, leading to Jesse and Lena romping through the halls all the time; Mei and Zarya were wont to don their furs for longer, and even their resident dragon-shifters looked a bit more scaly and prone to puffs of arcane flame than usual. Ana and Angela convened to read omens, treat their herbs, and prepare rituals of renewal, cleansing and recovery.

The only magical beings really unaffected were Gabriel, whose cycle was tied more closely to the sun, Jack, Brigitte and Torbjörn. Winston was also exempt, as were Reinhardt, who was as magically gifted as a rock, and Zenyatta.

Usually, the frenzy only lasted for a day or two. But this time it was a supermoon, and the effects of it were having people go haywire for a week before the actual event. It set Gabriel on edge, cooped up on base as he still was, not having been assigned on any more missions yet. Jack took it even worse than him, and Gabriel blamed it all on Jesse goddamn McCree.

It started with Jesse approaching Jack in his human form, reaching out to pet his fur or offer him food, which earned him a glare or a frontal view of Jack’s butt at best. Gabriel let it slide, knowing Jesse was just trying to live out his instincts and trying to integrate Jack into his pack. And Jack could handle himself just fine. But when he caught Jesse grooming a very reluctant, if not wholly disturbed looking Jack, he unceremoniously grabbed the ‘were by his scruff and tossed him as far as he could. Which was quite far.

“Get a grip,” he growled. “Can’t you see you’re not wanted here?”

Gabriel, though he usually preferred solitude when he was angry, allowed Jack to lie atop him afterwards and lick his face until the tension had bled from Jack’s spine and his fur wasn’t bristled anymore.

The last straw was Jesse roping Lena into his ‘were shenanigans. Surprisingly, however, it wasn’t Gabriel putting an end to things.

Jesse was the de facto leader of their shitty little ‘were pack, because Lena was just not interested in the job, and Jesse was a little bit of a macho, though in a mostly well-meaning way. He took care of Lena when she was away from her girlfriend for longer to ease her separation-anxiety, and he was always up for a playfight with her, despite her having boundless energy. It was a good arrangement, though born from necessity.

Add Jack into the mix, and things got complicated.

For one, Jack wasn’t a ‘were. He didn’t have the dual instincts of human and wolf that merged into one. He barely knew how to groom himself or how to properly walk on four limbs when Gabriel found him. He was effectively a deteriorated human mind in a haphazardly thrown-together canine body. Furthermore, he wasn’t a particularly social soul, and he was used to taking the responsibility of taking care of himself, only willing to follow a leader who had proven himself to him.

Jesse trying to bully him into joining his pack when he had not – yet – earned Jack’s approval was a severe miscalculation on the younger ‘were’s part.

Gabriel had been busy helping Ana prepare one of her alchemical concoctions, to be used during the supermoon ritual she was setting up with Angela’s help. His flame was one of the ingredients, and it took all day to crystallize it to the alchemist and the witch’s satisfaction.

His invitation to the procedure was born equally from necessity as it was a peace offering from Ana. She had not extended it to Jack, and Gabriel resented that, but he missed her company. He had mourned her, when he thought her dead. It was good to be working with her again.

When he returned to his quarters, feeling slightly cold and sore, he wanted nothing more than to grab Jack and snuggle in bed with him. Jack was always warm, and though he wasn’t soft, he was always happy to be the big spoon.

He was still thinking about how hard it had been to maintain his fire for so long and with such precision, a strange state of mind that had him both angry and melancholy, which he blamed for not noticing the ruckus right away.

It was not unusual for Jesse and Lena to get loud during their playfights, especially nearing full moon, but there was something different about the noises coming from the training ranges below this time. Worried, he sped up his steps. As he burst into the training room, however, he stumbled to an immediate halt.

Jack was facing off against both Jesse and Lena, who were obviously on the defensive, crouching low with their tails tucked in so as to not seem threatening. Their furs were disheveled, and Gabriel thought he even saw some blood smeared along Jesse’s ruff, where an opponent might try to grab the thick flesh in order to force him into submission. Lena was whining softly, backing off slowly, with Jesse positioned in front of her protectively.

In contrast to the two young ‘wolves, Gabriel was horrified to observe that Jack had taken an incredibly aggressive stance. His fur stood on end, making him seem even larger, and his limbs shook with barely contained fury. Drool dripped freely from his open maw below crazed, barely human eyes. But what shocked Gabriel the most was the deep, rumbling growl coming forth from his throat. It was the first sound he had heard coming from him ever since his transformation.

“Jack!” he called out, unthinking.

Jack’s head jerked to the side, and he stared at Gabriel for a second, before he let out a horrible noise, and fire burst out of his body in billowing, golden flames. And then he attacked.

Gabriel reacted instinctively, barely aware whether Jack was coming at him or at Jesse and Lena. He reached out with his hand, trying to summon his own fire, but after his exercise with Ana, he was weakened. Enough so that his reaction was too slow, and Jack’s brightly burning form had crashed into Jesse head-first.

“Jack, stop it,” Gabriel shouted, leaping forward. Regular fire couldn’t hurt him, but whatever had happened to Jack had to be magical. Still, he had to try.

His hands dove beneath the flames to grip Jack’s fur, but all his fingers found was heated flesh, naked skin. Scrabbling, he wound one arm entirely around Jack’s torso and lifted him off Jesse, struggling as Jack roared and thrashed in his grip.

“Run!” Gabriel told the ‘wolves, hoping they could get to safety. If Jesse was hurt- …

Jack was wiggling, snarling and doing his absolute best to escape Gabriel’s grasp. The flames emanating from his body tickled along Gabriel’s skin, not harming him in any way, but there was an aggressive, bitter quality to them that gave him pause. His chest tightened upon realizing where he knew this taste from.

It was hellfire.

He was intimately familiar with hellfire, as it was a closely related cousin to his own phoenix fire. Both were magical, and both had roots in blood magic. His own hellfire shotguns operated on hell salts and sulfur that he ignited with his innate fire. And hellfire was what had been used to destroy the old Overwatch HQ. It was what had killed Jack. What had transformed him. What made him into what he was today.

Never before had he ever heard of a hellhound actually wielding hellfire itself, though. And the surprise was enough to slacken his grip, allowing Jack to slip away in a fiery blaze.

“Goddamn it!” He scanned the room, finding Jesse – back in his human form – crouched behind some crates. “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothing!” he cried, baring his teeth instinctively. “Me and Lena were just trying to make nice, maybe groom him a bit. All of a sudden he goes up in flames like that. Why didn’t you tell us he was feral? He could’ve killed us!”

“I- …” He gulped, looking down at his hands. “I had no idea.”

*

Gabriel quietly sat in his designated chair, suppressing the urge to bristle and posture. Winston was looming over him, as were Ana and Jesse. The three of them had been talking at him, over him, berating him and generally trying their hardest to make him feel like the worst person on the planet. He didn’t care for it, but there was a numbness inside him that kept him from protesting at all. After a while they had blessedly switched from chiding him to arguing amongst each other.

“He is a danger not only to himself, but to others as well, this incident proves it,” Ana was saying. “I say we capture him. Detain him, study him. If possible, we try to- …”

“Experimentation is not an option,” Winston butted in, surprisingly. Or perhaps less surprising, considering his upbringing and origins.

“That thing nearly killed me and Lena!”

“If not even Gabriel can control it- …”

“ _Him_.”

The trio fell silent. Gabriel licked his lips and raised his chin defiantly.

“His name is Jack, and he used to be your friend too. He and I, we fled Talon because they treated us like monsters. Tools to be exploited and abused. No one there cared about us.” He sneered, meeting each and every one of their gazes. Winston shamefully averted his eyes, while Jesse glared at him. Only Ana seemed taken aback. Contemplative even. He held her gaze, saying: “I thought Overwatch was supposed to be different. Maybe I was wrong.”

On his trek back to his rooms, all of his energy seemed to just drain right out of him. By the time he reached the barracks, his feet were dragging along the floor. Feeling cold, weak and defeated, Gabriel stepped into his quarters, leaning against the closed door behind him. He shivered, the strain on his inner fire too much on his body and consciousness. His legs gave out beneath him and he slid down until he lay flat on the floor.

“What a shit day, huh?” Gabriel closed his eyes, ignoring the rough carpet scratching against his cheek. He blinked lazily, using the angle to peer under his bed. “I could really use a cuddle right now.”

In the dark shadow beneath the bed, a lighter shadow shifted, creeping minutely towards him. Gabriel could barely make out the shape of a crooked snout, and the glint of a single eye, but he felt comforted nonetheless.

“How did you even fit yourself under there,” he yawned, stretching lazily.

There was no reply, as always, but then it hadn’t really been a question.

Lying on the floor like this made him feel heavy and solid in a way that counterbalanced the cold, empty feeling inside. It was enough to allow him to crawl closer to the bed. Close enough to stretch out an arm towards the lumpy mass he could see huddled under there. His finger briefly brushed against skin – warm, covered in coarse hairs. If he didn’t know better it could have been a really hairy human forearm or something. A leg maybe.

“I wish you could explain all this to me. Is this why you kept quiet so long? Does sound trigger it? Or is it emotions? I’ve never seen anything like it before. I hope it didn’t hurt. Is all your fur gone now? Does it regrow evenly, or is that why it’s so patchy all the time? Oh, this might explain why you shed so much- …”

He kept babbling, voicing his thoughts and worries while his hand lay where it had landed. After a while, the brush of skin returned, and he smiled.


	6. Anxiety

After nearly a week of lying on the ground, trying to coax Jack out from under the bed – without success – Gabriel was a lot of things. He was angry. With Jack, for being a stubborn, uncooperative asshole. With himself, for not having seen the signs and helped smooth things over. With the rest of the team, for being no help at all.

But he was also afraid, and slowly, but surely, he was starting to panic.

He had the irrational fear that Jack would never emerge from his self-imposed exile and eventually starve or just fade away in front of his eyes. He was afraid of what the team was going to do to them – would Winston decide to throw them out? Would they demand that Jack be put down or collared and leashed from now on? Would there be a cage? Perhaps these fears were unfounded, but as he begged and cajoled and threatened, hand barely brushing the bristly fur that seemed to be growing back slowly but surely, his heart kept seizing, thoughts circling back to a time when this was the norm.

Talon was and had been horrible for a multitude of reasons. The full list was probably long enough to be considered a novel. But Gabriel’s time spent embedded in the organization was a nebulous memory at best. It had cleared up some after he found Jack. After he condemned him to suffer alongside him. The company was barely enough to stay sane. Now he wondered whether Jack had actually left as unscathed as Gabriel thought.

After yet another sleepless night, keeping a tossing and turning Jack company, Gabriel went to grab some coffee from the kitchen on auto-pilot. His eyes were near swollen shut, so he not only struggled with actually getting the coffee, but he also bumped into someone right after taking his first swig of the life saving concoction. Thankfully, that first swig also emptied his cup, or he and whoever he bumped into would have been covered in seething hot liquid afterwards.

“Oh shit, sorry,” he blurted out, blinking blearily.

“That’s alright, Gabriel, don’t you worry about me.”

He blinked again.

“Ana. Hey. You’re, uh- …”

She held out a steadying hand, keeping him upright even as he swayed on his feet.

“I was just on my way to see you, actually,” she said. “I wanted to talk. Well, I wanted to apologize. To you, and to Jack as well.”

“Oh.” Perhaps the caffeine was kicking in, as he was suddenly feeling much more alert. “I guess you’ll be disappointed then, because even I haven’t seen much of Jack since … you know. The incident.”

A furrow appeared between Ana’s brows, though her face was unreadable. It may be a worried frown, but it could also be confusion. Gabriel wasn’t certain. God, he was tired.

“If this isn’t a good time- …”

“No, no,” he waved her off. “It’s not that. He’s- … I don’t know if he’s sulking or if it’s something more. He hasn’t come out from under the bed in days though.”

“You should have reported that to medical at the very least, Gabriel. Why were we not inf- …” She suddenly interrupted herself and took a visible breath. “I’m sorry. I wanted to apologize, not make more accusations. But perhaps you need help to ensure Jack’s wellbeing at the moment, have you considered that?”

Miserable, Gabriel hung his head.

“I’ve failed, haven’t I. I mean I failed him so many times, Ana, I don’t even know why he bothers coming back to me at all. He _died_ because of me, but he came back. He returned to me. And I’m failing him again. I have no idea how to help him, or what to do.”

He was tired. Slumping in on himself, he rubbed his eyes. There was wetness on his cheeks. Had he been crying? He couldn’t remember. A hand on his shoulder startled him.

“Perhaps you should rest before trying to answer such weighty questions.”

“I’m afraid of sleeping because I don’t want Jack to be gone when I wake up,” he blurted out, rubbing his eyes harder. There were more tears now, and he couldn’t seem to stop them. “I don’t want him to leave. But I fucked up. He must have been suffering so much, not making a sound. Afraid we’d not accept him anymore. Or maybe he was afraid of hurting anyone, so he … he suffered in silence. And I had no fucking clue, what kind of asshole am I- …”

“There was no way you could have known, Gabriel. It is a difficult situation, but I am certain Jack does not blame you. He would never. Don’t you remember? You spilled beer all over the rec room that one Halloween, and he deadpan told us it wasn’t you, even though we all knew you had done it.”

“Yeah I remember.”

“Jack would never blame you for this. And if he is who you say he is, then he is wallowing in self-pity right now. But certainly not seething in anger at you,” Ana said sternly, shaking him slightly. “What do you think he needs right now?”

“Food,” he replied immediately. “He hasn’t eaten since- … Since then. I made him drink, but not much. And I really want to hug him.”

“That’s what _you_ need, aside from at least twelve hours of rest, a shower and a good meal. But you’re right, he might need a hug too. So how about you take care of that, and I’ll bring you both some food.”

He wiped his cheeks one last time, finally feeling the pressure subside. Ana’s eye was warm and kind, her hand equally firm and gentle.

“That sounds wonderful. You’re a good friend, Ana.”

She grimaced.

“I have not been so, recently. I am trying to make up for that.”

“Better late than never, huh?” he chuckled, patting her hand awkwardly.

“Agreed. Now off you go.”

He felt strangely serene by the time he reached his room. Still tired, but content in a way that had been prevented by his inner fears and worry for the last couple of days. Talking to Ana had alleviated some of it. Her support had always meant so much to him and Jack, back in the Crisis, and during the Overwatch days. To have it again was invigorating.

His good mood crashed, however, when he opened the door to his chambers. Doubling over, he fought the immediate urge to turn around as his nose was assaulted by a mixture of putrid smells. Cursing he pressed his sleeve to his face, breathing shallowly.

“Jack?” he called out, and then: “Athena, get me some ventilation in here. And turn on the lights.”

“Right away, Commander.”

As he was finally able to see, he closed the door behind him and inched further inside. He could feel the drag of a slight artificial breeze on his skin as Athena efficiently filtered the air. A few seconds later he dared breathe normally again.

There was a pitiful sound coming from under the bed, accompanied with a flicker of light and a sudden smell of something burnt, along with the distinct aroma of … uh, natural gasses.

“Hey, puppy.”

A long, fuzzy snout peeked out from the dark space beneath the mattress, followed by a slightly oddly shaped skull, two eerily human eyes blinking brightly blue, and a pair of wiggling ears. The entire, long and bulky length of Jack’s body followed, ending last but not least with his tail. Then, Jack did something Gabriel had only seen him do the once: he got on his hind legs.

Watching that body contort and tense in what looked like a distinctly unnatural way was painful. It must have been ten times as painful to do it, even though the sockets and joints were clearly at least partially designed for this purpose.

“Jack?” he said, carefully stepping forward with his arms stretched out. He didn’t know whether that gesture served the purpose of keeping some distance between him and Jack, or whether he was ready to catch him, were he to pitch over and fall.

Like this, Jack was tall enough that he had to stoop over, lest he bump his skull on the ceiling. On anyone else, directed at anyone else, the look he sent Gabriel would have seemed threatening. The posture looming. But he recognized this for what it was and opened his arms.

Clumsily, heavily, and too tall to fit properly, Jack returned his hug anyway. The hot huff of breath tousling Gabriel’s hair made him laugh, and he felt a responding heat blooming beneath Jack’s skin.

Hellfire.

It changed things. It was scary. He was afraid, but not _of_ Jack. Never that.

He shifted his hands a little to scratch at the spot between Jack’s shoulder blades he could never reach, and the big, gnarled body in his arms melted.

Ana found them this way, not too long after, tangled on the carpeted floor. Some of it had gotten singed when Jack’s newfound voice escaped his control, but it was nothing that couldn’t be replaced. A price worth paying a thousand times over, if it meant Gabriel got to hear his husband’s laughter again.

“Good to have you back,” Ana said, deliberately meeting Jack’s eyes as she set down a bowl of easy to chew food in front of him. A peace offering.

Gabriel waited with bated breath as Jack lay unmoving, eyes unblinking, while he read Ana like an open book. She calmly let him, kneeling before them for minutes, until Jack huffed, and started eating in that new, messy way of his.

Like a spell had been broken, all of a sudden both Gabriel and Ana were laughing, and judging by the twitch in Jack’s ears, he was distantly amused about them, too. He was done eating by the time Gabriel started, and, belly full of food after days of abstinence, he was lazy or perhaps content enough to even allow Ana to pet his fur.

“It’s rough! I thought it would be soft, as a werewolf,” she exclaimed.

“To be fair,” Gabriel said between bites, “it’s still growing in after he’s gone supernova. But it’s not much softer once it’s fully grown in either.”

“Fascinating,” Ana whispered, and smiled when Jack’s tail playfully whacked against her arm, even though his eyes were still closed.

And to think it hadn’t been too long ago that Jack would have fled any room Ana entered. Yet here he was now, dozing lightly, head pillowed on Gabriel’s thigh, letting her pet and scratch him. Whatever kind of magic this was, Gabriel knew it came from love. Friendship. Old wounds healed. Atonement. This, the three of them, they could overcome anything. To be united again was a great relief. Any challenge the world could throw at them they’d deal with. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :3


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